


it's not as if you remember, because if you did, you wouldn't be here

by kiittenteeth



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Beta Read, Child Death, F/M, Infidelity, Not a ship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23640745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiittenteeth/pseuds/kiittenteeth
Summary: She knew it wasn’t true, none of what he was saying was true, deep down, but the Nightcloud that knew the truth was crouched in the furthest corners of her mind, her jaws clamped shut tightly, as the rest of her willed her to believe him. She finally caved, leaning into Crowfeather’s embrace and letting her head fall to the side, resting against his smoky gray side, “Alright. Alright.”This is a mistake,said the Nightcloud that knew the truth, sitting in the back of her head,he won’t stay for long.
Relationships: Crowfeather/Nightcloud (Warriors), implied Crowfeather/Leafpool (Warriors)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	it's not as if you remember, because if you did, you wouldn't be here

“Nightcloud.”

In all her life, she had never been this humiliated.

Crowfeather crouched before her, submissive, with his skinny tail curled against his flank and his head bowed to the dirt; Nightcloud stared down at the exposed dark gray fur of his neck instead of his head.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. 

“You left me,” Nightcloud responded, hollow, as if she were a shell of her old self.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Crowfeather said again, “I’m back now.”

“I’m pregnant.” 

This was not news to him.

“I know.”

“You _knew_ I was pregnant,” Nightcloud’s claws worked into the dirt below. Crowfeather shrank in on himself further, head still bowed, and tail curling tighter against his flank. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you enough. It was a mistake; I was scared. I wasn’t ready to be a father. I didn’t think this was what I wanted,” he began to ramble, his wide ears flat against the back of his head.

 _It’s not as if I wanted this either_ , Nightcloud wanted to interrupt, to scream back at him, to shout her frustration and her hurt until her voice was hoarse. _I didn’t run off with another molly. At least I was trying._

She said nothing.

“But I know now!” Crowfeather’s head lifted upwards to look at her, and Nightcloud tore her gaze away from his pleading, pitiful blue eyes, and chose to stare past the top of his head, to the tree line behind him. Crowfeather continued on, “This is what I want. You’re who I want. I’m sorry, I made a mistake, I wronged you.”

_You did._

Silence fell between the two of them as the sun began to dip beyond the tree line, its empty branches turning to black silhouettes clawing at the golden sky. Crowfeather remained silent, urging Nightcloud to speak first in silence, begging her to say _anything_ to him. She wondered if he would’ve preferred it if she had been angry, instead of this configuration of rock in the shape of a cat staring past him.

No, that wasn’t true, she _was_ angry. Deep down she was infuriated, a writhing mass of bitter resentment forming within the back of her throat, ugly and hurting and torn from her ego. But it was buried down by the numbing disappointment of rejection, even from a tom she didn’t want to begin with. 

_I gave up so much for WindClan,_ she wanted to hiss at him, _what did_ you _do?_

“What do you want me to say?” was all she managed.

“I don’t know,” Crowfeather sounded defeated. After a few more moments passed in silence, Nightcloud listening only to the stuttering beat of her heart in her chest, Crowfeather got to his paws, intercepting Nightcloud’s view and casting it on his face. Their eyes locked, and, within those blue eyes, Nightcloud forced herself to see regret for leaving her and not regret for coming back. She wondered if her own eyes betrayed any emotions for Crowfeather to read, or if they looked as empty as she felt.

“Do you still want me?”

 _Do you?_ She retaliated in her head and in her head alone. 

“Nightcloud,” his voice fell to a whisper, his eyes searching hers, and she finally willed the strength to turn her head away from him, instead focusing on a clump of heather nearby, swaying weakly when an occasional gust of leaf-fall air brushed by. She tracked the movement of the stems back and forth, focusing on how each one bent to the breeze. Crowfeather stepped forward again, though Nightcloud remained rooted where she stood, neither backing away from him nor leaning into his approach.

“Skylark,” Crowfeather murmured, and Nightcloud finally flinched, recoiling away from him and wincing as if the nickname dug its claws into her very heart; she wanted to feel softened by the desperation in his voice, the softness to his tone, but she felt cold instead when she thought of how commonly WindClan warriors used ‘skylark’ as a term of affection. This was not a special nickname between the two of them. 

“Dustbunny.”

Nightcloud’s pelt prickled at the second nickname - they had been friends, once, when they were younger and innocent, naive to the way their paths would align and tangle in this ugly way. Back then, they had just been Mudclaw’s daughter and Deadfoot’s son, two kittens with family pawprints too big to fill in their eyes. He had called her ‘dustbunny’ more than once in their, now seemingly short, time together, when her ears had seemed too big for her head and her fur stuck out in different directions, especially when she was riled up - which she usually was, around Crowpaw. Then Crowpaw went off on his journey, and when he came back, he had not been the same one she had known when they were young and edged with kitten fluff. 

“Don’t,” Nightcloud willed the anger from the back of her throat into her voice, but instead it came out in a wobbly, hurt laugh, and she shamed herself silently for falling into his trick. Crowfeather let out a soft noise of amusement, a small chuff, before he leaned forward to bump his head gently against Nightcloud’s; she grew stiff once more, refusing to return the nudge. He sank against Nightcloud’s side, angling his head so he could rest his chin against her shoulders, muzzle pressed to her sleek black fur. 

“I’m so, so sorry, you know that right?” 

“Yes, I know,” Nightcloud’s answer was blunt, but that did not deter Crowfeather. Instead, he carried on, his breath stirring the fur across Nightcloud’s shoulders and neck, “I don’t love her like I love you. You’re my best friend here. I shouldn’t have run away from our responsibility like this.”

 _You shouldn’t have_ , Nightcloud’s voice echoed weakly in her head.

“I’ll make it up to you, any way I can, I know I hurt you but I’ll do anything if it means you’ll stay with me. If you’ll take me back. Nightcloud, I am so, _so_ sorry.”

Nightcloud only stared at the dying grass beneath her paws, turning a dusky shade of golden-brown in the weather of the tail-end of leaf-fall. 

She knew it wasn’t true, none of what he was saying was true, deep down, but the Nightcloud that knew the truth was crouched in the furthest corners of her mind, her jaws clamped shut tightly, as the rest of her willed her to believe him. She finally caved, leaning into Crowfeather’s embrace and letting her head fall to the side, resting against his smoky gray side, “Alright. Alright.” 

_This is a mistake,_ said the Nightcloud that knew the truth, sitting in the back of her head, _he won’t stay for long._

Nightcloud shut her eyes, blocking out the world as she simply rested against Crowfeather, briefly, praying that she could just be loved, that she wouldn’t lose her only chance to be loved.

❋ ❀ ❁ ❋ ❀ ❁

“Nightcloud.”

Her ears twitched towards the source of the voice, an indication that she heard Barkface, but that was the only notice she gave. She wasn’t ready to unfurl herself away from the single kitten suckling weakly at her belly. The burrow that had once felt so cramped, so tight, to Nightcloud for the past two moons now felt as empty and barren as a wasteland. 

“The sun is beginning to sink beyond the Moonpool,” his voice was soft, barely above an audible whisper in the darkness of the nursery burrow, “I was about to begin the naming ceremony, but I wanted to see if you want to name them before…” he trailed off before finishing, but his words still dug deeply into the tender ache of Nightcloud’s heart. Without a word, she lifted her head and cast a look over her shoulder, to where Barkface crouched low at the entrance of the burrow; she nodded silently, before she looked back down to the little one still at her belly, “Do I bring him?” The thought of leaving her kitten unattended, alone in this nest, daunted her, as if the moment she stepped away from him a warrior from the stars would descend from their territory and steal him away from her. 

“I can nurse him for the night,” spoke a voice from the other corner of the burrow, closer to the entrance where Barkface was hunkered before, “You know, while you attend the vigil.”

“Thank you, Partridgeclaw, I’d appreciate that,” Nightcloud said to her denmate, though her mind was somewhere else, bounding across the moor with her kittens at her side, the wind tugging at her fur as she listened to them squeal in play, though all that was left was a haunting memory she would never have. The thought of leaving her only kitten now with someone else turned her stomach, unreasonably so, but she couldn’t bear to be away from the other two before they left. 

She got to her paws, feeling more cumbersome than when her stomach was swollen with little bundles of life, and she grasped the scruff of the little one in her jaws, before creeping over to Partridgeclaw and setting him against her belly, next to her own three kits, Antkit, Kestrelkit, and Harekit, who had only been born a quarter-moon earlier. Partridgeclaw bent her head down to brush her nose lightly against the little one’s head, before she looked up to Nightcloud, green eyes shining with sympathy so intense Nightcloud had to turn her head away to avoid wailing - the look in all of her Clanmates’ eyes only reminded her of what she lost. She crept away from Partridgeclaw without another word, paws falling silently against the soft dirt floor of the burrow as she followed Barkface out, slipping from the small entrance. 

In the camp, the rest of her Clanmates had gathered for the ceremony; the groups that had gathered in small cliques earlier that day had now gathered together to form a loose circle around the two bodies. Onestar sat on the level of camp ground just in front of the Tallrock with Ashfoot by his side; he watched on with no words of solace or comfort, simply standing there as rigid as a tree trunk, rooted to the spot to watch over the ceremony. Ashfoot, on the other hand, had her bowed as she quietly spoke in hushed whispers with her son, Crowfeather, who sat close to her other side; as Nightcloud came into the dying light of the open camp, the mother and son looked up to catch her attention. Ashfoot opened her jaws as if to speak, but fell shut, a haunted look in her unusual blue eyes, the same ones that matched Crowfeather’s in a way that only tore into the ache Nightcloud held further. She caught Crowfeather’s gaze only briefly before he looked away from her, instead staring at the snow under his paws without a word. 

Tawnyfur and Whitetail sat together in the circle, murmuring words between the two of them while Whitetail’s only daughter, Heatherkit, barely a moon old now, sat wrapped in Whitetail’s sleek tail. Tawnyfur curled her tail around Whitetail’s back as they spoke, before she caught sight of Nightcloud approaching the circle, and quickly gestured to her with a short nod. Whitetail twisted around to take a look herself, and the pained expression that painted her countenance nearly made Nightcloud crumple in on herself. She got to her white paws, trusting Tawnyfur with Heatherkit, and hurried over to Nightcloud, pressing her cheek to the other queen’s, her short white fur a stark contrast against Nightcloud’s own silky, thick black pelt. 

“Oh, Nightcloud,” the older queen whispered in sympathy, “I’m so sorry. No mother should ever have to go through this.” The two of them had grown closer after Nightcloud moved into the nursery burrow, and she relented to her friend’s comfort, pressing her head to Whitetail’s as she stifled a sob. No queen should ever have to go through this, no, but Nightcloud certainly wasn’t the first one to experience this grief, and she certainly wasn’t going to be the last, at least that’s what she told herself. Many others in her Clan had experienced this grief and other horrors, like Morningflower, who had to watch her only son die at the paws of some disgusting tyrant, or so Nightcloud had heard.

Still, despite Nightcloud’s attempts to soothe herself, the pain didn’t subside. After a few more heartbeats of resting against Whitetail, seeking comfort from the older queen, she pulled away, giving her a nod of thanks before she followed Barkface towards the center of the circle once more. Whitetail retreated back to her own spot besides Tawnyfur and Heatherkit. 

In the center of the circle, away from the crowding figures of the older cats, lay the two tiny bodies, as still as the snowy moor that WindClan called its home. Barkface took a seat by the two kits, and Nightcloud followed his lead, sitting beside the older tom. 

“WindClan,” Barkface began, and the circle fell into silence, “I am sad to see these two kittens leave for StarClan before they even got to open their eyes to see the beauty of the moor around us. Together, we will wish them a safe journey to their new starry home, but first, we will not let them leave without their names. Let the StarClan warriors listen to this mother’s voice as she gifts these two kittens their names.”

The attention of the circle turned to Nightcloud in that moment, but her focus beyond the two painfully tiny, painfully limp bodies at her feet was muted and distant, as if her Clanmates were territories away, and it was only her and her two kits in this scoop of the earth. She stared at the kittens, one whose pelt was as deeply black as Nightcloud’s own, and another whose own coat was a muted gray similar to the pair’s paternal grandmother, both stark against the white snow beneath them, now turning a pale, washed out cream color as the bleak sun dipped below the horizon and turned the sky a desaturated golden hue. Nightcloud hunted for her voice, somewhere beyond the heartache in her chest, and finally she spoke, fighting off the choked waver that nearly haunted her words and fighting to sound as strong as she tried to be, “Ravenkit, for the black one, and Dawnkit, for the gray one.”

She was a molly of few words and small gestures, and when Whitetail’s eyes lit up with recognition across the camp, she wondered if the rest of the camp saw the same pattern Nightcloud aimed for; with her back to Ashfoot and Crowfeather, she was not sure in particular if they noticed or not. For a brief moment, she questioned if Crowfeather even cared enough to grieve with her for these kits; she chased the thought away immediately, and told herself that he was only keeping his distance now because he didn’t know how to process the agony, nor did he know how to comfort her in this troubling time. 

A whisper of the kittens’ names echoed from the circle, many voices unified into one breezy murmur. Once the last echoes of the names had died from WindClan’s tongue, Barkface lifted his muzzle to StarClan, and, having sat through this ritual countless times for countless cats before, the WindClan Clanmates bowed their heads to the upcoming prayer.

“So they have been named. StarClan, tonight, we as a Clan gather to sit vigil for two young cats taken before their time. Please, send someone down to guide Ravenkit and Dawnkit on their journey to the stars, and let them reach their new home safely. Watch over these kittens, and may they live on in our memories and be cared for in your hunting grounds.” 

Barkface dipped his head in similar fashion to his Clanmates, and once more, a murmur of the kittens’ names swelled from the group, before dying out again and fading into a somber silence. The circle began to break up into groups and cliques once more, though Nightcloud and Barkface remained rooted before the two kittens; behind her, Nightcloud heard the shuffling and low voices of Onestar and Ashfoot talking between themselves, before Onestar gave Ashfoot and her son a dismissive farewell, followed by the fading pawsteps of Onestar heading towards his den. Ashfoot and Crowfeather approached the kittens and sat on the other side of Nightcloud and Barkface, while others around them began to settle down for the night, save for the few sitting vigil for the kittens.

Whitetail approached Nightcloud with her head lowered, taking a seat on her other side, and Nightcloud glanced from her to the nursery burrow, “No, Whitetail, you should be in your nest with Heatherkit.” 

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Whitetail soothed, “Tawnyfur has already offered to spend the night with Heatherkit tonight while I sit vigil with you.”

Nightcloud rested her forehead against Whitetail’s shoulder for a brief second, murmuring her thanks to her friend before she straightened back up; with her gaze still locked on the little bundles of fur by her paws, she spoke to Barkface, “They’re your kin, too. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, they are,” he said, solemnly, “I will grieve with you tonight.” 

Nightcloud spent the cold night shivering between her kin and her friend, staring blankly at the bodies of two kittens she had been carrying for the past three moons. When the morning arrived, shrouded with milky gray clouds and just as cold as the night, Nightcloud was the first to speak, watching the elders gather around to bury the dead.

“May I pick where they are buried?” She asked with a distant tone; Rushtail shot her a skeptical look as he lowered his head to grasp Ravenkit by the scruff, but Morningflower was quick to agree, “Of course, dear.” 

Nightcloud nodded her thanks to the elderly molly as Morningflower lifted Dawnkit, and with Nightcloud in the lead, they set off into the moors, followed by Barkface, Ashfoot, and Crowfeather, while Whitetail and the other cats who sat vigil went to catch up on their missing sleep.

“They should be buried by Moonpool’s Stream,” Ashfoot suggested as they trudged across the landscape of rolling hills, now covered in uneven snow drifts, disturbed by the pawsteps of patrols and prey the day before. When no one responded, Ashfoot added, “Crowfeather agrees.”

Nightcloud felt an uneasy prickle against her spine and she willed her voice to be as level as usual, chasing away the growl that was tempted to invade her tone, and instead spoke tersely, “No. I do not want to bury them by ThunderClan’s border.”

She led the group on in silence, and she only came to a stop once they approached closer to the lakeshore, in clear view of the Gathering Isle and the fallen tree that had killed Mudclaw moons ago; a little ways ahead was a mound of earth, lined with stones and wilted flowers, and dusted by a layer of snow. 

“Here,” Nightcloud announced, and, without another word, she helped the elders dig the final resting places for her kittens, and once all was done, Barkface gathered the group around the new grave to recite one last prayer before they headed back to camp.

It was only past sunhigh when Nightcloud heard Ashfoot complaining in grumbling mumbles to Crowfeather how uncomfortable she was that Nightcloud had buried the kits by Mudclaw’s grave.

❋ ❀ ❁ ❋ ❀ ❁

“Nightcloud?”

She roused at Barkface’s voice, lifting her head and blinking her eyes against the faded light that filtered in through the entrance of the nursery burrow. Barkface shuffled closer to Nightcloud’s nest, where she remained curled up around the little one, her back to the entrance of the nursery while she shielded him from the outside world with her body. 

“Sorry,” Barkface whispered, creeping around Nightcloud’s figure to her other side where the little one lay, “I didn’t realize you were sleeping. I hope I haven’t been keeping you up.”

“No, no, you haven’t,” Nightcloud said to the only visitor she had had since the day the kittens were born, “I appreciate your visits.”

She remained quiet as Barkface sniffed over the little one, and, when satisfied, pulled away; instead of leaving, he settled onto the dirt floor, tucking his forepaws beneath his chest and his hind paws behind his belly as he looked over the mother and her son. 

“He’s making a strong recovery,” Barkface’s tone had the hint of a purr behind it, “We need to keep an eye on him still, but I’m more confident now that he’ll live to see the next season.”

“Good,” Nightcloud rumbled, sweeping her wispy black tail against the little one’s body, “Thank you, Barkface.”

“Of course,” He said, the purr growing louder; Nightcloud rested her head on her paws, listening in comfort to the light purr rolling from Barkface’s throat, while Partridgeclaw and Whitetail slept across the burrow with their kits at their flanks. 

“Nightcloud, it’s been a few days since the burial,” Barkface began, and Nightcloud simply twitched her ears, waiting for him to continue - the way time moved in the nursery burrow felt odd, as if disconnected from the working camp just outside the mouth of the burrow; Barkface went ahead, “I was wondering if you’ve settled on any names for him. I’m sure Onestar will be pleased to announce the new kitten’s arrival at the next gathering.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating, before she spoke again, “Yes, actually, I have an idea.”

“May I hear it?” Prompted Barkface, angling his dark brown ears towards Nightcloud with interest. Nightcloud relented, “Alright, but you mustn’t judge, or laugh.”

There was a short burst of air from Barkface’s nose and an amused twitch of his whiskers, but he spoke earnestly, “I won’t.”

Nightcloud let her orange gaze wander across the little one, safely curled by her belly, sleeping away, “I think I’d like to name him Breezekit.”

“ _Breezekit?_ ” Barkface echoed, and though he attempted to hide the surprise in his voice, the glint of his amber eyes betrayed his emotions. It was always in the eyes. 

Nightcloud pressed her ears against the back of her head, “You said you wouldn’t judge.”

“I’m not,” Barkface was quick to assure her, “But I will admit it’s, well, it’s a bit of an unusual prefix.”

“I know, but I’m sure you’re no stranger to uncommon prefixes,” Nightcloud shot back, a hint of a tease behind her soft-spoken voice and a flash of humor in her orange eyes. Barkface’s whiskers twitched once more along with Nightcloud’s tease; his own prefix, vague as it was, wasn’t exactly the most used of prefixes, and Nightcloud could still remember when she, as a young apprentice, would giggle with her fellow peers over how silly of a name ‘Onewhisker’ was.

“There’s a reason for it, Barkface,” Nightcloud grew serious once more, “if you’re interested to hear it.” 

“Of course,” Barkface said, inviting Nightcloud to explain the strange prefix she had picked out for her son. She felt vulnerable, briefly, now that Barkface was listening intently to her, and she fell quiet for a moment, considering her words carefully. She was never one for speeches, and often had a hard time articulating what she was trying to say in coherent words.

“He was born to rebuild WindClan,” she began, “Crowfeather and I agreed to our arranged courtship as a sign of good faith between Onestar’s supporters and Mudclaw’s supporters.”

“I’m aware,” said Barkface, the movement of his whiskers his tell-tale sign of humor, “I was there.”

“Hush,” Nightcloud dismissed him with a wave of her tail and a small smile, “You’ll make me lose focus. Anyways, as I was saying, he was born to rebuild WindClan, so why wouldn’t it be fitting to name him Breezekit? Windkit would be blasphemous.”

“I suppose it would be.”

“He’s got a fighter’s spirit, the potential of a great warrior. Just like WindClan, he’s been on the brink of death and still bouncing back from it, but he’ll carry on and recover, just as WindClan has. I’d like to eternalize his circumstances and WindClan’s struggles and strength to recover in his name.”

If Barkface had his doubts, and Nightcloud was sure he did, he did not voice them; instead, he simply gathered himself to his paws, “Very well, so it is said, so it is done. I’ll go let Onestar know Breezekit’s new title.”

He touched his nose to Nightcloud’s brow before he left, just as her father had done to her when she was a kitten, then crept out of the nursery burrow; as he left, Nightcloud curled back around her son, touching her nose to the top of his head and breathed a soft sigh. With Breezekit shielded from the world outside by his mother’s comfortable belly, Nightcloud listened to the wind whistle outside the burrow.

**Author's Note:**

> howdy, long time no see. i kno i don't reply to comments a lot, but if you're a previous commenter on one of my fics know that i've read every comment left on my fics over and over again <3!! they mean A TON to me i just rarely log in ;;___;; !!!!!!
> 
> also, followed some writing/posting advice from [this post here](https://burnt-sycamore.tumblr.com/post/615113433349799936/writing-tips-pt-1-the-paratext)!


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